


Nine To Five

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal, Blow Job, Cunnilingus, Double Penetration, F/M, Fingering, MILF, NSFW, Oral, Porn, Reader Insert, Sandwich, Sex, Smut, Threesome, Vaginal, all the porn, dp, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 19:31:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7770232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>THIS ONE GOES OUT TO ALL THE SINGLE MOMS, NOT-SINGLE MOMS, SINGLE LADIES AND COUPLED LADIES, OVER THIRTIES, UNDER THIRTIES!! EVERYONE! Reader is a single mom, with little to no excitement in her life past a bottle of wine. Fate drops her into the Winchester's hands, and smut happens!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nine To Five

Dishes, laundry, make sure the kids had their lunches packed for school, uniforms ironed and set out ready for them, and finally, the clock has hit midnight and you’re sitting down with the glass of wine you poured three hours ago, that isn’t chilled anymore, and tastes more vinegary than it should. Mainly because Zachary had needed new school shoes this week, so your extra treat money had gone on those instead of that lovely bottle of Savignon you’d had your eye on in the grocery store.

You were exhausted, and your day was finally done, but you had less than five hours before it had to start again. Up with the sun, make sure the kids were getting up and showering, make sure they weren’t smuggling illegal items into their backpacks - easier said than done since Rebecca now had a serious obsession with Pokemon Go, and despite being told she wasn’t allowed her phone at school, kept hiding it wherever she could.

There was nothing on television except some old reruns of Sex And The City, and you totally didn’t need to be reminded of your lacklustre sex life. You  _ wished _ you had time to relieve a little of that old tension, but with a busy home life and a job to juggle, getting two seconds to diddle yourself was limited to a quick flick in the shower and it was always a less than satisfying orgasm. And finding a man? Forget it. Two teenaged kids at home and an ex-husband always loitering to cause problems made that a complete no-go zone.

So here it was, night number six thousand and something-or-other, and you were slinking into bed in the cartoon lounge pants your kids had gotten you last Christmas, and you knew you’d either sleep so soundly you’d miss your alarm, or you’d be staring at the ceiling until about twenty minutes before it was due to go off.

Wednesday morning brought the second option.

Dragging yourself from your warm duvet, you trudged downstairs, with five minutes of peace as you brewed a coffee and sorted out some bland tasteless oatmeal, that was designed to keep you full so that you didn’t snack and add a pound to the increasing spare tyre around your waist. It was a lie; you knew you’d be straight at that snack cart for a cheese bagel and high fat milkshake as soon as eleven rolled around.

The thumps from upstairs and slamming of doors indicated that your offspring were awake, and you rolled your eyes to the ceiling, taking a breath and springing into the rest of your day.

Kids off to school, lunches given and confiscatable items removed. Money for Zachary’s afterschool club in his hand and Rebecca’s shouted reminder that she was “hanging out with Sarah after school, mom!” leaving you to make a quick mental memo that you didn’t need to rush home after work. That would be nice. Maybe you could enjoy five extra minutes in Walmart and choose something nice for dinner.

Traffic was awful, as usual, and by the time you rolled into work with a half-cold coffee in one hand and your hair falling into your eyes, you were about done. Your boss was quick to jump down your throat and order you into his office, and you obeyed, like you always did, dumping your handbag at your corner desk, and resigning yourself to the fact that the coffee may as well be poured away.

You almost fell into his office, seeing two other gentlemen in there, and you couldn’t even stop your mouth from falling open as your eyes landed on them. Both of them were tall, handsome as hell, like they’d just stepped out of a fucking GQ magazine shoot. Your boss was grumbling about something to do with the incidents that had been happening across the company estate, and these men were apparently FBI agents, sent to investigate.

Well, if that was what you got to work with at the FBI, you might be looking into a career change.

‘You’re going to show them around the building, Y/N,’ your boss grunted. ‘I’d do it myself, but I’ve got several meetings today.’

‘I thought I was -’ You started, only to be cut off by a raised hand.

‘Kathy can cover your work. This takes precedent over your minute taking. You’re my best PA, Y/N, don’t let me down with this.’

You scowled, a little put out by being reduced to a PA - the job you’d applied for wasn’t just to be his cart pony. But still, couldn’t hurt to have a day doing nothing, especially when it was doing nothing but showing a couple of drop dead hunky men around.

‘Y/N, is it?’ The taller of the two, although that wasn’t saying much because they both had inches to spare on you, held out his huge hand, and you took it, shaking firmly. ‘I’m Sam. Thank you for this. It will help us to get this mess sorted out quickly. Lattimer Group is a very important asset to our country after all.’

You wouldn’t have gone that far, but you were too busy trying to control your weak knees as you smile at his goddamn adorable dimples. He must have been around your age, and you quickly scanned for a wedding ring, finding none. Wishful thinking, but damn, you were gonna carry on.

‘It’s not a problem, Sam,’ you blushed, gesturing to the door. ‘Shall we get started?’

The other agent stood up, smiling just as widely as his partner, and you wondered if the cleaners would be able to mop up the mess you were going to turn into. ‘Can we start somewhere with coffee?’

You laughed, nodding as you held the door open, noticing your boss had gone straight back to whatever “important” work he had to do. The agents walked past you, and you let the door shut softly. ‘That is definitely something I can do.’

*****

They weren’t federal agents.

That much became obvious when you’d taken them down to the part of the estate where most of the “accidents” had happened. As it turned out, that Native American burial ground stuff was true in some cases, and a few  _ hundred _ angry spirits were causing problems. After hours of looking for clues, you’d found yourself trapped in a closet, hearing gunshots and wondering how you’d ended up here from making baloney sandwiches the night before.

It was difficult not to scream as the door flung open,  _ literally _ flying across the corridor as the hulking transparent form of an angry man had you pressed against the brooms and mops, hoping to God you’d be able to see your kids that night.

A flash of heat and you screamed as the spirit went up in flames, Dean and Sam, the so-not-agents, appearing outside of the closet a few moments later. You wanted to open your mouth, demand an explanation, but instead, you stumbled forward a few steps….and passed out.

Waking up somewhere other than your bedroom was possibly the least disconcerting thing that had happened all day, and when you laid eyes on the handsome visage of Sam, leaning over you with concern on his thrice-damned face, you’d almost screamed again.

He sensed your panic and smiled reassuringly, hazel eyes almost twinkling as he took your hand and helped you sit up. ‘Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.’

‘What time is it?’ You asked, eyes wide, thinking about the kids.

Dean cleared his throat, checking his watch. ‘About four thirty.’

‘Oh, thank god.’ You placed one hand on your chest, relieved that it was still at least two hours before Zachary and Rebecca would be home. Your eyes widened as you realised where you weren’t, and you threw your legs over the edge of the bed so quickly, that Sam had to avoid getting kicked.

‘Whoa, where are you going?’ Dean stood up, holding out a hand.

‘Back to work? My things are there, my boss won’t know where I am, and oh….jesus, there were fucking ghosts in the building! Ghosts! Who the hell are you people?’ You shook your head, trying to clear the dizziness. ‘I have to go.’

‘You’re not going anywhere,’ Sam placed his hands on your shoulders. ‘You’ve had an ordeal, Y/N. Don’t worry about work, we got your things, they’re in our car. We’ll take you home, as soon as we’re certain you’re okay.’

‘My boss -’

Dean scoffed, shaking his head. ‘Is a douchewad, and we took care of it. As well as clearing out the ghosts. No more dead co-workers.’

Sam glared over at Dean, before smiling at you tightly. ‘The only way we could get past security was with an escort. I’m so sorry you got dragged into this. You shouldn’t have seen any of that.’

‘You’re not...you’re not feds,’ you whispered, letting Sam push you down onto the bed once, more, your hands clutching at your pencil skirt. Your clothes were wrinkled and filthy, and you imagined you probably looked like you’d been dragged through a hedge backwards.

Might need a whole bottle of that Pinot Grigio tonight.

‘We’re hunters. We gank monsters, ghosts, things that go bump in the whatever.’ Dean’s voice was gruff as he explained, and you nodded almost without thinking. ‘There was an Indian -’

‘Native American.’ Sam interrupted, earning himself a scowl from Dean.

‘Whatever. A burial ground full of pissed off ghosts that didn’t like their home being disturbed. Your new building site just so happened to wake them up.’

‘And they were killing people.’ Your shoulders slumped. ‘I thought there had just been accidents.’

‘Covered up by management,’ Sam explained, rubbing one hand on your arm and you looked down at the large hand touching you. He was warm, and you dragged your eyes back up to his face, marvelling at just how goddamn sexy he was. ‘You took a few knocks before we could get you into that closet. Sorry about that, by the way.’

‘Not the worst place I’ve been,’ you replied, quietly, smiling. ‘My kids managed to shut me in the shed once. And that had spiders.’

‘Kids?’ Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. ‘Hey, Sam. MILF.’

Your mouth dropped open as Sam sent a pointed look in Dean’s direction, and you scrambled to make sense of whether he was joking or not. You weren’t the super hot mom off of network television - you were tired, and had to make do with substandard makeup from JC Penney and a posh outfit normally came from the discount section at Macy’s. Dean must have been joking.

‘Excuse my brother, Y/N, please. Sometimes...his mouth runs away with him.’ Sam was blushing, which you would have found adorable if you hadn’t been trying to make your brain work.

‘No, no, it’s fine, I mean, he’s joking, everyone does that…’ You rambled a little as Dean frowned and stood up, looking down at his brother where he crouched next to you on the bed.

‘I’m calling what I see,’ he paused, narrowing his eyes at you. ‘Come on, you gotta have a husband or boyfriend or something -’

You laughed nervously, shaking your head, fingers pulling at the loose threads on your pencil skirt. ‘Ha, I wish. With two kids and job...I mean, I  _ was _ married, but he found better things to do with his time than...well, anything other than his secretary.’ You sighed, looking down at your hands and wishing you could afford a manicure. MILF - yeah, more like Mom That Needs To Diet.

Sam’s forehead creased as he looked at you, then looked at his brother, the pair of them almost sharing a silent conversation. ‘You think too little of yourself. I mean, you were involved in some pretty heavy shit today, and you’ve come out of it with your hair still in place. And, if you don’t mind me saying, wasn’t so bad following that cute ass around all day.’

The nervous laughter returned as you squirmed a little. ‘Please, I’m not...you’re being nice. I’m a thirty-plus singleton with two teenagers and a shitty PA job, that wasn’t even supposed to be a PA job. And I acted like the biggest girl down there, I almost got myself killed -’

Dean harumphed loudly, shaking his shoulders as he unbuttoned the top of his shirt and pulled his tie loose. ‘Not what I see.’ He turned blazing green eyes on you, and you shuddered. ‘I mean, you’re cute as hell, darlin’.’

Sam nodded. ‘We don’t tend to lie about these sorts of things.’

‘You lied about being FBI,’ you pointed out, and Sam chortled, his hand dropping down to land on your knee, his thumb swiping over that little ticklish spot where the bone met the knee cap. You shivered, letting your eyes settle on his. Dean was unbuttoning shirt the rest of the way in the background, and you couldn’t help but steal a peripheral glance at his golden skin.

‘Point taken but…’ He leaned in close, picking up one of your hands and bringing it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles gently. ‘We don’t lie to pretty women.’

Your heart thumped loudly, like it had gotten stuck in your throat and you gasped out a squeak of surprise as Sam leaned in, letting his mouth brush over yours. You weren’t sure how this had happened, but hell, you suddenly found yourself liking ghosts.

Dean was pushing his pants down over his hips now, leaving him only in his boxer shorts as Sam kissed you long and hard, his tongue licking at the inside of your mouth, enticing yours into slow battle. You moaned into him, fingers coming up to curl into the lapels of his shirt as Dean approached the bed.

‘Sammy, get out of that suit. I believe this lady needs to be show how she should be treated.’ His voice ran over your skin, leaving goosepimples in it’s wake as Sam broke away with a smile, letting his brother take the lead. Dean’s hands pushed at your shoulders, and he coaxed you back onto the bed, his mouth millimetres from yours. ‘You’re goddamn beautiful, you better believe it.’

There was no room for argument as Dean’s kiss took over where Sam’s had finished. You whimpered as Dean used his knees to push your legs apart, the movement making your pencil skirt ride upwards, almost exposing the horrible cotton panties you’d thrown on this morning. His cock was already hard in his boxers, and he wasted no time grinding into you, making you mewl into his mouth as he sought out territory that hadn’t had any male attention in a while.

He broke away, grinning at you, as his fingers started to pluck your blouse buttons undo, one by one. You sent up a thanks that you’d actually put a nice bra on today - even if the wire was missing from one cup - but your thoughts were soon broken by Dean’s skilled mouth kissing a path over the swell of your breasts.

You were still unconscious, right? The ghost knocked you out, and this was a dream.

Felt real enough.

Your shirt was wide open now, discarded to the sides of your body, and your automatic reaction was to try and cover yourself, to hide the stretchmarks and cellulite, the years of “just one more cake” that had settled around your hips. But before you could move your arms, Sam was there, grasping your arms and pulling them above your head to leave you defenceless.

‘I’ve got a lot of scars, sweetheart. And none of them show half the bravery you’ve shown.’ His words left a blossoming heat in your chest, and you bit your bottom lip as Dean’s fingers unzipped your pencil skirt and dragged it down, leaving you in just your shirt, bra and panties. He chuckled appreciatively as his fingers brushed your mound, finding your panties already wet.

‘Now that’s what I like to see,’ he muttered. ‘Wet and wanting, just for us, Sam. Definitely a MILF.’

Your blush was spreading as you held back a gasp. ‘Stop calling me that.’

‘Callin’ you what, darlin’?’ Dean teased, one finger drawing a lazy circle over your clit through your panties. ‘A mom I’d like to fuck? I suppose you’re not.’ He leaned closer, dragging one cup of your bra down to expose a hard nipple. ‘You’re a mom I’m  _ going _ to fuck.’

The gasp you’d been holding escaped as his mouth closed over your nipple, suckling at the tender flesh with expertise you’d never encountered, as his fingers pushed your panties to the side and spread your pussy lips wide. Your body shuddered and you whimpered loudly, only for Sam to push himself up and seize your mouth in a kiss.

With both gorgeous men touching you, you thought you might have died in that closet and gone to heaven, but as your orgasm approached, Dean’s fingers pushed deeper into your aching cunt, twisting and curling, until he found exactly what he wanted and sent you flying over into abyss of pleasure, your cries swallowed down by Sam’s lips. Neither of them stopped, as they pulled wave after wave of pleasure from your quivering body, and when Sam finally pulled away, he smiled down at you.

‘I’m gonna let go now. Don’t you dare cover up that sexy body.’

Your voice was almost gone. ‘I won’t,’ you rasped, as Dean released your breast with a wet plop. Sam stood straight, walking around the bed, and you managed to get a good look at his long, toned torso, and you realised that he’d hadn’t been lying. Both him, and Dean, carried a collection of silvery looking scars, with some of them looking like  _ actual _ bullet wounds.

Dean noticed your inspection of their bodies and knelt upright, dragging you with him. As he pushed your shirt from your shoulders, and unhooked your bra with an expert touch, he smiled a little sadly. ‘We’ve done a lot of hunting.’

‘I can see,’ you whispered, tracing your fingers over one particularly jagged looking scar just above his right hip. It dipped underneath his underwear and you looked up at him coyly as you let your fingers follow it downwards. ‘It seems like a scary life.’

‘Kids might be scarier,’ Dean admitted, groaning as your fingers closed around his hard cock. ‘Fuck, you got some magic fingers there, sweetheart.’ You grinned, pushing his boxers down to allow his cock to spring free, and your eyes widened. It had been a long time since you’d seen a cock as beautiful as his, the curve of it, the weight of it in your hand, the red and swollen crown leaking with precome. Holding it firmly, you stroked him once, twice, and relished the noise he made. With your heart beating so hard through nerves, you thought it might burst, you took a quiet breath and licked at his cock, closing your eyes as the rich, salty taste of him hit your tongue.

He didn’t move as you experimented, letting you have full control as you explored his body. His cock was long and thick, and you quickly found you weren’t getting it all in your mouth. Despite how long it had been since you’d done this with a guy, the memories of stolen youth came running back as you beckoned them, and Dean was soon practically crooning your name as you fucked him with your mouth. Sam watched from behind, stroking himself as he watched you suck his brothers cock with enthusiasm.

‘You keep that up, and I’m gonna ruin this way too soon,’ Dean moaned, one hand grasping your neck to encourage you away from his swollen member. You smiled languidly, just as he pulled away and Sam climbed onto the bed behind you.

‘Pretty hot to watch,’ he whispered in your ear, nipping at the spot above your collarbone. ‘How do you want us, Y/N? I mean, we can do whatever you want. Do you want Dean in your pussy, or me? We could take your ass...have you done that before?’

You nodded, gasping as his fingers trailed around the front of your belly, dipping down to tease at your clit. ‘I have, but it’s been...fuck, it’s been a long time.’

‘Long time for what?’ Sam asked, still sucking marks into your neck.

‘Anything.’ Your answer was honest and embarrassing, but you didn’t miss Dean’s eyes lighting up.

‘Guess we’re gonna have to make this memorable,’ he chuckled, as if it  _ wasn’t already _ . You had two drop dead gorgeous guys, naked in front of you, readying themselves to fuck you, and he’s saying they have to make it memorable?

Any more memorable, and you’d need a fucking memorial.

_ Here lies Y/N Y/L/N. Sexed to death. She loved every second. _

‘I think I want to see her on top,’ Sam commented, bringing you out of your thoughts. He moved away from you, laying down on the bed, and you got your first good look at him. He was...bigger. Dean had been impressive for width and length, but with Sam...how the hell did you start to describe something so magnificent. Was it even going to fit?

Nerves overtook you, and Dean noticed, pulling you closer to him. ‘Sam’s gentle, don’t you worry.’ His tongue was pressed against his front teeth in a cheeky expression. ‘You’re gonna be too busy coming all over his cock to think about the size of it.’ His hand caressed your ass, squeezing a little as he jerked his head in Sam’s direction. ‘I think Sam wants you to ride him.’

You sucked in a breath, feeling your core clench in need, and Sam wrapped a hand around himself, stroking slowly as he watched you consider your options. ‘Dean, why don’t you make sure she’s nice and ready for me.’

‘Hmmm, might be an idea.’ Green eyes sparkled as he gently laid you back, spreading your legs so Sam could see your slick pussy. Your fingers clutched at the sheets underneath your ass as Dean’s fingers slid through your folds, before he licked them clean and smiled at you. ‘Scream for me, baby.’ He bent down, holding your thighs apart as he licked a thick stripe along your cunt, Sam’s groan of appreciation for the view making you wetter than you thought possible. Dean was leaning over your thigh, as you lay spread out next to Sam, your head at the opposing end of the bed to him, and you suddenly realised there was something you could do with your hands.

The grunt of surprise Dean gave as you slid your hand over his cock, pumping him with slow measured movements, vibrated against your pussy, and you shivered as he thrust his tongue into you. Somehow, he kept in time with your hand, and before long, you felt Sam shift down the bed a little, his large hand covering yours and bringing it up to touch his thick length. Your fingers didn’t even touch around him, and you felt your stomach flip at the thought of having both of them…

God, this was a dream come true. A cock in each hand, and the mouth of a sexy bad boy on your pussy. This was definitely how you went out. All thoughts of responsibility and work and life went out of your head as Dean ate you out, sloppy, pornographic noises mixing with your whimpers and mewls, Sam’s grunt providing a beautiful backing track to your sudden climax. Dean didn’t stop either, keeping his mouth moving until you were completely spent and shaking.

‘She’s definitely wet enough for you now, Sammy,’ Dean announced, sitting back, and your hands abandoned them both as you tried to catch your breath. You forced yourself to move, climbing onto all fours, feeling sexier than you had in years as you crawled up the length of Sam’s body, throwing one leg over him and rubbing yourself against his fucking hard-as-steel dick. Sam groaned, holding you still, and you vaguely registered Dean getting off of the bed.

‘Fuck me…’ you whispered, the words sounding so wanton coming from your lips that you could hardly believe it was you. Sam grinned, sliding one hand between your bodies to position the head of his cock at your soaked entrance, letting you sink down onto him without stopping. It was a lot to take in, literally, and you cried out when he hit the hilt, your pelvis flush with his, and the tip of his dick pressed against your cervix almost to the point of pain. But it didn’t stop you from needing more, and Sam was more than happy to oblige. He held your hips, rotating his own and thrusting up into you as he kept you steady on top of his body.

‘So fucking wet,’ he groaned, arching his head back, and you tightened around him, making him cry out  a little. ‘Fucking perfect. Jesus, you’re gorgeous like that, baby, riding me like a fucking stallion.’

_ Well, you are hung like one.  _ You could have let the comment out, but you decided not to ruin the moment, focusing on the feel of his cock dragging against your walls as he pulled almost all the way out of you before sliding back in. He was splitting you in half, you were sure of it, but it felt so damn good, you couldn’t even think to complain.

Dean climbed back onto the bed, a small bottle in his hand as he stopped to watch you riding his brother for a second. ‘Damn, you’re fucking hot,’ he groaned, moving between Sam’s calves. ‘Tell me if you want me to stop, sweetheart.’ You opened your mouth to reply, just as Sam slammed into your g-spot and sent your head spinning. Before you could register, Dean’s index finger, cold with lube, pressed against your asshole, and you jumped, twitching around the thick length in your pussy. It wasn’t something you’d done for a long time, but caution had been thrown to the wind about six exits back.

‘Want more…’ You gasped, your entire body begging for it. Dean smirked, adding a second finger, stretching your ass as his brother stretched your cunt. You felt full, but still, you wanted more. Dean didn’t even need to ask as he thrust his fingers in and out of you lazily, making sure you were adequately prepared for him. He added a third digit, keeping his movements fluid, and you came, screaming loudly with the intense pleasure they were creating.

‘Fuck, Dean, I’m not gonna last…’ Sam groaned, his fingers digging into your hips even more as Dean slicked up his cock and withdrew his fingers from your ass.

‘Please -’ You mewled loudly, feeling the tip of Dean’s cock at your ass, needing him to fuck you along with his brother. ‘Please, just...just fuck me, please.’

‘I like it when she begs,’ Dean noted, easing the tip of his cock into your ass, grunting with the effort. It took a second for the crown to pop through the tight ring of muscle, and you whimpered at the pleasant burn he was creating. It hurt, there was no way it wouldn’t, but you were so caught up in the adrenaline and pleasure, you just wanted him to slam it in. ‘Fuck, she’s so fucking tight, Sammy.’

You wailed as he pushed another inch into you, Sam’s movements slowing to accommodate his brother’s entry. It was agonising torture, and you clenched tightly, needing Dean to just get it over with, wanting them both buried inside you to the hilt.

‘Dean, just...just fuck me, please.’

He grunted in return, giving a shallow thrust, the lubricant easing his entry until he was balls deep in your ass, the both of them pressed together through the thin wall of your sex, and you were fairly positive  _ that _ was about the time you died.

When they started to move, you saw stars, and everything melted into grunts, groans and screams, Dean’s filthy words of encouragement and Sam’s fingers clinging to your thighs as they built up a rhythm, one in, one out, one in, one out - and the fire raged in your core. Before you could comprehend it, you were coming hard, soaking Sam in your juices as Dean pounded into your ass.

The man underneath you came first, following your orgasm quickly with his own, filling up your cunt with hot liquid. You screamed loudly as it prolonged your climax, and then Dean was jerking and shuddering, sinking his teeth into your neck and sucking a dark mark into the skin as his come filled your ass.

You weren’t sure how long you were sandwiched between them before they pulled away, leaving you bereft and panting on the bed, come dripping out of your pussy and ass, staining the motel room sheets. Dean quickly returned and cleaned you up, sitting beside you on the bed with a smirk on his face.

‘Told ya.’ He winked. ‘MILF.’

You waved him off lazily. ‘Shut up.’ Rolling your head to the side, you saw the time. ‘Shit. I’ve gotta get home. My kids will be back soon and…’ You looked down, seeing the state of you. ‘Oh god, talk about walk of shame.’

‘We’ll drive you.’ Sam offered, placing your clothes on the bed. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘My car...I left it at the office.’

Dean looked up at Sam, smiling. ‘I’ll have to come give you a ride in the morning then.’

You raised an eyebrow. ‘So you aren’t running off to your next hunt, or whatever?’

Dean shook his head, caressing your thigh. ‘I’m sure we can find a reason to stick around. Hunts come and go, but a beautiful woman like you?’ He looked up at his brother. ‘We’ll figure something out.’ You smiled at his words, sitting up and dressing quickly. Ten minutes later, you were in the backseat of a very nice classic car, pulling your handbag to your side. No missed calls, one text from Rebecca saying she was on her way home.

‘Crap.’

‘Don’t worry.’ Sam soothed, looking over the back seat to peer at the text. ‘We’ll get you home before her.’

He wasn’t lying, and you found yourself stood on your driveway in no time, waving off the brothers in their car, just as your teenaged daughter walked up the drive, looking a little confused at your behaviour.

‘Mom? Where’s your car?’

‘Incident at work. Some friends drove me home.’

‘You’re back late.’ Rebecca’s arms folded over her chest. ‘Does that mean TV dinner?’

You smiled, turning to unlock the door. ‘Nah, thought we’d order pizza. Zachary will be home soon.’ It was practically audible, the smile on your daughter’s face.

‘Pizza? Awesome.’ A moment of silence as she followed you into the house. ‘Mom?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Why is there a hickey on your neck?’


End file.
